Hotel Olympia
by Smartlions
Summary: The ancient Greek gods have come to Storybrooke, and the residents find themselves as the pawns in their family feud. Plot diversion as of 4.12
1. Chapter 1: Where Emma Meets the Family

**A/N: for the time line of this fic, it's placed around the very, very, beginning of** _ **Darkness on the Edge of Town**_ **(4.12), and thus is considered plot divergence from that point forward.**

* * *

 _I._

 _Where Emma Meets the Family_

Everything had returned to normal in Storybrooke again. It took two weeks for Emma to finally settle into the idea that, maybe, for once, life as the Saviour could be easy for her. There were no evil witches parading about, no dragons she needed to slay, no kidnappings, or curses, or complications (other than the barrier that bordered the town, a souvenir of the Snow Queen's recent attempt at muddling up Emma's life). Finally, she had accepted a routine into her life again, without constantly looking over her shoulder for someone trying to stab her in the back.

First thing in the morning, she would grab her coffee from Granny's, before heading to the station. Usually, halfway between her apartment and the restaurant, Killian would meet up with her, walking with her until they reached the library, where he and Belle were looking for a way to release the fairies that, under the hand of Rumplestiltskin, Killian had captured in a magic hat. (Maybe things weren't _exactly_ normal, in the sense any average person would appreciate, but by Storybrooke standards…) With a chaste kiss the two would part ways, and after coffee was collected, Emma would arrive at her desk for work.

Work, which usually amounted to filling in papers leftover from the disaster most recent to befall the town, talking to David, and then to patrol around in the cruiser to ensure no crimes were being committed.

Which meant that work was a whole lot of nothing for Emma these days.

And in a way, she appreciated it. The peace was a welcomed change. No portals, no rampaging mythical creatures, no witch hunts to put a halt to, just quiet, quiet Storybrooke. But, deep down, Emma yearned for excitement to return. She would push that out of mind though; what kind of sadist was she? After the years she'd spent cleaning up messes, solving problems and defeating evils, Emma deserved a break. She should have been thrilled to be able to spend time with Henry again, or her parents and friends, without some imminent doom breathing down all their backs.

But still, she was the Saviour. As well as the daughter of the great adventurers Snow White and Prince Charming. She probably had some adrenaline junkie tendencies woven into her DNA with all that in her family history. And just practicing her magic every now and again with Regina, or picking up a sword the odd time she was starting to feel a little rusty wasn't really cutting it.

She arrived at the sheriff's department the same as every day; two black coffees and mentally preparing herself for the boring papers she'd be filling out 'til noon. She placed one of the hot cups on her father's desk, and David smiled brightly at her.

"God, how do you do that?" She groaned, plopping down at her desk and jolting her desktop screen awake. David gave her a confused look.

"Do what?"

She gestured generally at his face. "Keep up all that… that, y'know," she huffed in frustration, " _charming_ disposition."

"You sound like you're in a good mood this morning," he chuckled, turning back to his own stack of work, pen in hand.

"What, you don't find things monotonous lately?"

David laughed sharply. "Not at all, actually. I, for one, like the peace. You're starting to sound like your mother, Emma. She was always looking for adventure."

"I'm not looking for an adventure," she insisted, "I'm just looking for _something_ to happen. Like, I don't know. Busting some kids for skipping class. Or littering. Anything that isn't paper work."

"I'm sure something interesting will rear its head eventually, Emma."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," she muttered to herself, before resigning to her busywork for the day.

Reliably, it was nothing unexpected. The paperwork required signatures and filing, but not much more than that. The curse set by the Snow Queen had left the town a bit of a mess, and both the fighting that took place in the office itself and the violence amongst the town folks had the Sheriffs' work cut out for them. Incident reports and reorganising scattered files all had to be done, and the only way to do it properly was also the most meticulous way. Even with two officers, the work was taking a long time and it went slowly. Emma glanced up at the clock, hoping to see that it was time for lunch, but it was barely quarter to eleven. She was about to turn her pen back to paper when the phone rang.

Both she and David startled, so rarely was it that the station phone went off. Exchanging a glance, Emma tentatively reached for the receiver.

"Storybrooke Sheriff's Department, this is Sheriff Swan."

" _Hotel Olympia_ ," the voice on the other end said simply, in a feminine monotone. " _Please come, sheriff._ "

"What?"

Instead of a reply, Emma was met with the call end tone. She looked over to David again. "That was weird."

"Weird usually isn't a good sign. Who was it?" David stood, approaching Emma's desk to look at the call record on her computer monitor.

"I didn't recognise the voice, and they didn't leave a name or anything. They just said to go to some place called 'Hotel Olympia'? You ever heard of it?"

David frowned. "No, never." He pointed to the monitor. "I'd guess that this is the address though."

"This is a bit suspicious isn't it? A call from somewhere we've never heard of, from someone we don't recognise."

"Of course it is, but we should check it out anyway," David sighed. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, and grabbed the keys for the cruiser before stopping to wait for his daughter to join him. "Well, looks like you got your wish, Emma."

* * *

Emma could have sworn she'd been through the part of town the address led them to a hundred times before and had never seen this "Hotel Olympia" before. It was actually a really nice building, three stories and the front decorated with wide marble columns. The white of the building would have been blinding in the late morning sunlight, if it hadn't been for the ivy growing up the walls. The entire thing was surrounded by an iron fence, and the front was a lush garden, everything in full bloom – even some flowers Emma didn't recognise growing anywhere else in town. She could have sworn that some of them weren't actually in season, though she had never considered herself any sort of gardener. Around the back of the building she caught a glimpse of a pool wrapping around the rest of the yard.

"Fancy." She stood with her hands on her hips, admiring the hotel from the sidewalk.

"And old," David remarked, pointing to a plaque attached to the fence, reading the name of the building with a subtitle of _est. 1876_.

"Well, that can't be true, right? Regina's curse only lasted for 28 years."

David only shrugged in reply and pushed the gate open. "Well, it definitely looks its age."

Emma followed him up the cobblestone path to the heavy doors. They were painted white, and groaned argumentatively as David pushed them open.

The lobby inside lacked the brightness and cheer of the exterior. It was dimly lit, with no windows. Beside the door was an apartment listing David skimmed over with furrowed brows. There were potted plants scattered around the lobby, as well as mailboxes that looked like they hadn't seen any use in a long time. To the right of the room was an archway leading to a separate part of the building. Beside the service counter was a carpeted stairwell, the steps looking worn out. From up the stairs echoed the distant sound of an argument, which Emma guessed may have been the reason for the call. Emma took a step toward the counter, which a man and woman stood behind.

The pair were both astoundingly beautiful, which took Emma by surprise. They were also complete opposites of each other; the man with black hair and skin paler than Emma had ever seen before, while the woman had warm, brown skin and dark honey coloured hair. The woman stood over a potted plant, hands extended around it, with her mouth opened in surprise. The man, leaning against the wall behind her, had a blank expression other than a raised eyebrow.

"Hi," Emma started, awkwardly, pulling her badge off her belt to show them, "I'm Sheriff Swan, and this is Sheriff Nolan," she waved toward David. "We received a call from here? It didn't say anything much about an emergency but –"

"You shouldn't be here," the woman cut in sharply. Her expression turned dark and she took her hands away from the plant.

"What?" Emma frowned, crossing her arms.

"Ma'am, someone at this address called us at the station," David stepped up beside his daughter. "We need to know what the matter is before we can do anything."

"There is no issue here, and no one called you." The woman leaned forward, crossing her arms and staring Emma down in particular. Though she was nearly a foot shorter than Emma, she was intimidating in a way that chilled Emma to her bones. Beside her, the plant's leaves started to shake and turn brown, curling in at the edges. "You both need to leave, immediately. Before _he_ finds you."

"He?" This whole conversation was going no-where. "Lady, we received a call and _by law_ , we have to find out why. You're behind the service desk, can't you just, I don't know, look up the outgoing calls from the building?"

"I'm telling you that no one would have called because there are _no phones_ , except this one," she pointed to the one beside her. "I've been here all day. But, even so, no one would have called you, you're…" She stuttered to a halt as the man reached out to grab her shoulder.

"You need to go." He said, almost so quietly Emma couldn't hear, but in a voice so deeply menacing she felt compelled to follow his order. Unfortunately, she was more stubborn than that.

"Who is this _he_ you're talking about?" Emma demanded again.

Before she could get an answer from either clerk, a huge man stormed down the stairs, a woman following him as fast as she could in the heels she was wearing, both yelling back and forth the entire time. If the two behind the counter had been beautiful, this couple was ethereal.

"One more word from you, woman," the man boomed, stomping across the lobby toward the door, not noticing the audience, " _one more_ and I am leaving this building and never returning!"

"Good!" The woman's body shook in hysterics. "You can go shack up with some whore as you've always been so fond to do! Be my guest! This family is better off without you and the interference of your bastards!"

The man whirled around, face contorted in rage as he turned on his wife. The argument came to a halt though, as he noticed Emma and David standing by the counter, eyes narrowing. Glancing back to the couple of clerks, both had paled, the man to the point of looking ill. If she had to hazard a guess, Emma would bet that this fellow was "he".

"Who, may I ask, are these two," the man drew up to his full height, rage turning from the boiling anger he had directed at his wife to a quiet, deadly sort. Both Emma and David instinctually took a step back.

"We tried to get them to leave, sir." The girl was wringing her hands together.

The man directed his attention to the male clerk. "Brother," his tone was chilling, "you couldn't get them to go?" The dark man shrugged in reply.

The woman's voice was shrill as she spoke up, saying, "you both had only one job! Make sure the mortals don't find us! Is that so hard?"

 _Mortals?_ Emma looked over to her father, looking for some answers. As the man's anger built, the room started to grow muggy, smelling of ozone, like a storm was about to break out in the lobby. Emma finally found her voice, managing to manage a small-sounding, "what the hell?"

Everyone's attention turned to her, the wife's lips thinning to a sharp line. "You _dare_ address us?" She raised her hand in a way Emma recognised, about to cast a spell. She raised her own hands in preparation to retaliate, but before either could cast, a fifth stranger entered the lobby.

"Hera, sister, be reasonable." The interloper was a curvaceous woman with a warm smile.

Hera dropped her hand, frowning deeply. "Hestia. This does not concern you."

"Of course not," Hestia's warm smile never faltered. "However, I feel that turning these mortals into your peafowl would not benefit us in anyway." She opened her arms in a calming gesture – everything about this woman seemed to exude kindness. "Please, sister," she turned to address both the men, "brothers, allow me to handle these mortals."

Hera, looking more upset than before, though no longer with her husband, decided to return upstairs without a word. Her husband followed, the stormy atmosphere dissipating as he climbed the stairs. Hestia, gestured for David and Emma to follow her into the side room, a dark bar and lounge room.

Other than the three of them, there was only one other patron in the room, a young man, slumped over in his seat, asleep with a wine bottle sideways on the table. Beside the bar was a pretty, young woman who paid no attention to the new comers. She didn't quite fit in with the other people here, as she didn't have the same unattainable beauty to her, but she seemed at home, polishing glasses with a white cloth.

Hestia led them to a set of couches before a huge, ornate fire place. Tentatively, David and Emma took the offered seats.

"Thank you, Ms." David started, and the woman smiled.

"Please, think nothing of it. My siblings tend to have a temper about these sort of things," she herself took a seat, though at the hearth of the fire. "For good reason, mind you. We do not seek the attention of mortals in this day and age."

"What do you mean mortals?" Emma settled back into the couch, though mentally checked herself to be ready to bolt if necessary. "Who are you all? Magic users?"

Hestia laughed at that. "Magic users? How quaint. No, Princess, -" Emma bristled at the mention of her most unused title, "- we are the Olympians."

David frowned, and Emma's mouth dropped open slightly in shock. "Like… like the Greek Gods? From, what, Mount Olympus?"

With another warm laugh, Hestia nodded. "Yes, yes, the very same." Her expression then, for the first time turned grim. "You both, however have made a grave error coming here."

"We were called though," David started. "We had to."

Hestia sighed, "I understand that. I just wish you would have not come. I do not know whom it was who called you, or why they did, but it has not led to good things." She gestured back to the lobby, "that man there was Zeus."

Emma's eyes narrowed. Finally a name she recognised, though she did not like the sound of it.

"You've brought up an issue we've been successfully avoiding for some time now – interaction with mortals," Hestia turned to stoke the fire as she spoke. "There was a rule. While we had come to this town in order to avoid our abilities being noticed by the mortals, we also lived under strict law never to talk or involve the mortals who lived here in our affairs. You," she turned her eyes back to her guests, "have broken this law, though you were not aware of it."

She allowed a moment for the two Sheriffs to realise the gravity of the situation. From what little of Greek mythology Emma could remember, everything bad seemed to happen when humans and gods came in contact. But, at the same time, all the heroes came from those meetings as well.

"Why would you stop meeting with us, uh, mortals? If that's how you all get your heroes, wouldn't it be a good thing?"

"Hardly." Hestia was carefully rearranging the soot in the fireplace, not caring much about how close to the flames she was getting. "A demi-god is a force of unfathomable power. Strength, wisdom, ability. But all these things ultimately end in destruction, as they lose control, or are turned against others by us," she gestured widely at the hotel around them. "The life of a demi-god is never a good, nor a long one. And it only ends in pain for both the mortals and the gods. So, it is best to avoid them altogether."

She brushed the soot from her hands as she stood, and both David and Emma rose. "Now, before anything more happens, I urge you both to leave, now."

* * *

After escorting the two mortals to the lobby again, and watching them drive off, Hestia heaved a tired sigh. Closing the door behind her, she saw Hades and Persephone watching her.

"What will happen now, Lady Hestia?" Persephone, cradled her potted fern to her chest, her husband standing motionless in the shadows as always.

Hestia shook her head. "I am uncertain, my dear. Only the fates know the consequences of this encounter."

She left them without another word, returning to the lounge. Walking up to the bar, the young woman spoke to her without looking up. "A drink, Lady Hestia?"

"No," she said solemnly, "I wish to convene with the Oracle."

The girl raised her head, her eyes glowing golden. " _Lord Apollo has asked me to say nothing._ "

Hestia frowned. "Troubling news then?"

The girl didn't reply, just continued to stare with her blazing eyes as her hands continued to polish the glass they held.

"What then, if I may ask, can be done to help these mortals?"

The Oracle sighed quietly, though it sounded nearly musical from her. " _Lord Apollo has asked me to say nothing,_ " she recited, " _though, there is nothing that can be done to the wheel already in motion._ "

Hestia shook her head. "What has already started?"

" _The Game. It has already begun."_


	2. Chapter 2: Where the Game is Set

_II._

 _Where the Game is Set_

"This is exactly as we feared. Revealing ourselves to the mortals? This is what we've always striven to avoid."

"What do you expect us to do about it? We already lost our chance to act."

"Yes… Unfortunately, Hestia chose to tell them who we are, rather than to alter their perception as was what we had agreed on previously."

"Hardly is that my fault – Dionysus is the one with that power, and he was hardly conscious enough to be of any use."

"If you gotta problem _Lady_ , just come out and say it."

"Enough. We have more important matters at hand than to fight over whose responsibility is whose."

"I don't see why the mortals knowing of us is such a terrible thing. They always used to – it'll be just like the good old days."

"Yes, why don't we use this to our advantage? With the population of this town under our thumbs, we can gain back our old strength!"

"Humans are not playthings, Ares."

"I _humbly_ disagree, sister. Humans are _nothing_ but playthings."

"Enough!" Fists slammed against a tabletop. "Something must be done! Before the mortals start trying to manipulate us for our powers."

"Well, what does Lord Zeus believe should be done?"

Silence.

"… Mortals are nothing but trouble, always have been."

Murmurs of agreement, cut short as a hand was raised. "However, they are but mortals. What consequence would it have on beings such as ourselves to use them for our own purpose?"

"Lord Zeus, please, reconsider-"

"Truly you can't mean…"

"Silence." – The disgruntled discussion halted – "I propose a game of old. If the mortals know of us, and it is too late to stop them, let us take advantage."

"I will have no part in this!"

"Then have no part, wife. Those who wish to leave the mortals to their own, you may. But otherwise, we shall again take up champions, and compete as we did in the days of our greatest strength."

* * *

Henry and Regina were still pouring over his book for some sign of the Author, which left Emma without a lot of time to spend with the kid. Aside from meeting him outside school and walking him to the Mayor's office, they barely got to see each other.

"Any luck so far, kid?"

"Not yet. But I'm sure we'll find something." It was one of those rare times Henry was starting to get frustrated. An abnormal state for such an upbeat kid, but the search for the Author was going on for much longer than anyone had been hoping.

"I believe in you. You'll find something eventually." Emma ruffled his hair as he stepped up to the door of city hall. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will, mom. I'll see you later."

She watched him step in, then walked off down the street aimlessly. Now for the hardest part of her day – finding something to do between work and heading home. Since Storybrooke had gone so long without anything exciting happening, Emma was off work earlier, and the free time was making her antsy. She could go down to the library and pull Killian away from his research with Belle, which lately was what she usually did, but after the strange encounter yesterday, she wanted to think about it. She had no idea what these new-to-her citizens were up to, other than hiding in their weird apartment building. At work, she and David hadn't really spoken about it, today or after arriving back from their excursion yesterday afternoon, aside from an exchange, and an agreement not to tell anyone (particularly, Henry and Mary Margaret,) just yet.

Personally, she wasn't sure what to make of these gods. At all. First off, there were a lot of them, evidenced by the apartment listings that had been by the door. And not knowing at all who it was who called them at the station, or why. If mortals were something to be avoided, why were they summoned? The whole situation made her feel uneasy…

She stopped in her tracks as a strange tone shook her from her thoughts – it took her a moment to realise it was her phone receiving a text. Drawing it from her pocket, she read the invitation from her mom to join her and her brother at Granny's for a bit, _if you aren't busy_. Bitterly, she laughed at that. _I'll be there in a moment_ , she sent in reply, before heading down the road toward the diner.

As always, when she arrived the restaurant was moderately busy. Everyone was in a great mood, of course, and ordering their sandwiches, coffees, and what-have-you for a late lunch. She spotted Mary Margret at the usual booth, her brother's bassinet tucked into the bench.

"Hey," Emma sat down across from the two of them, shrugging out of her jacket. "What's up?"

Her mom smiled back brightly, looking up from the menu in hand, still rocking Neal with her other. "Does something have to be up for me to want to see you?"

"Of course not. You having trouble deciding what to order?"

"No, actually, I was just wasting time while I was waiting for you." She raised her hand, and Ruby made her way over. "Can I get the vegetable soup Ruby?"

"'Course, Snow. Anything for you Emma?" She smiled mischievously. "Grilled cheese?"

Emma half-heartedly returned the grin, and nodded. "Please."

"Alright, let me know if you guys want anything else."

After Ruby walked off, Mary Margaret's happy face dropped slightly. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong? Nothing's wrong."

"You're an awful liar, Emma. You have that look." When Emma frowned, her mother gesturing vaguely at her own face. "You're hiding something, at least."

"Everything's fine, mom. Just work."

Mary Margaret's smile returned, though not fully. "If you say so."

The bell rang to signal someone new entering the diner. Killian made his way from the front of the building to the booth where Emma and her family sat, sliding in next to her. As always, he seemed to always walk into the diner exactly when someone he wanted to run into was there. Her mom's smile brightened in greeting. "Killian, how nice of you to join us."

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he looked at Emma in particular, obviously noting her bitter expression the same way that Mary Margret had. "You look like you had a rough day."

"Something like that. How's the research going?"

He shrugged, though she could tell how frustrated he was. As much as her expression was giving herself away, his tense jaw was no better at hiding his feelings. "It's going slow, love, but we'll figure it out eventually."

"You know, you're the second person today to tell me that."

Ruby returned with their orders, setting down the plates, and giving Killian a look. "Anything for you, Hook?"

"Not at this moment, darling."

Ruby shrugged, smiling at Mary Margaret and Emma in turn before walking back over to the counter.

"So, what has you looking so miffed, Swan?"

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that. Nothing's the matter. I'm fine."

"Which sounds like something someone who wasn't fine would say," Mary Margaret mumbled into her soup, not looking up to catch Emma's glare.

Emma was about to say something in return when the bell rung again. Emma turned to see who it was, having a sinking feeling it would be someone else coming to ask her if she was okay. However, she had not expected to see the young woman from the front counter yesterday bee-lining toward her table. Emma turned back to the table, trying to ignore the girl, but in a moment she was stood over the booth, looming despite her short stature. Both Mary Margaret and Killian looked at the newcomer in confusion, while Emma stared bitterly at the cutlery set on the table. The woman glared at all three of the adults seated on the benches, though at Emma in particular.

"Your Highness, and, uhm," the young woman looked at Killian with an expression of mild disdain, "… Pirate. If I may speak to the Saviour for a moment."

Emma looked up briefly. "No, thanks."

Her mother looked to her, ignoring both the stranger's request and her daughter's curt reply. "Emma, who is this?"

"Someone who told me not to meddle in their affairs," she grumbled, locking eyes with the young woman.

"And yet, it would appear too late for that. Our affairs are officially meddled in, and now you and I have something to discuss."

"Wait one moment there, _girl_ ," Killian spat, "what sort of meddling are we dealing with here?"

"The sort with deadly consequences."

Mary Margaret released a heavy sigh, raising her hands to her temples in an expression that nearly screamed ' _oh, Emma, not again'_. "Of course it's 'deadly consequences'. What else could it be?"

The young woman stared pointedly at Emma, who stared right back. "A name would be nice, you know."

The woman's expression softened slightly. "Lady Persephone. You may call me Persephone." She cast a glance back to the other two patrons at the booth, and the tiny infant fast asleep in his bassinet. "Though I bear bad news, Saviour, I mean none of you harm. I mean only to warn you of what's to come."

"That's all well and good, love," Killian sighed, frustration apparent, though Emma couldn't tell who it was directed toward, "but I still have no bloody idea what is going on here."

"Which I will also explain. After I speak to the Saviour."

"Emma is fine." Emma stood, giving in finally. Killian allowed her to leave the booth, and Persephone led her to the exterior of the building through the front door. "Let's get this over with, then; what did I do this time, and how do I fix it?"

Persephone looked slightly taken aback, turning to look at her companion as they strolled down the main street. "You sound rather cynical."

"Comes with the territory; if you can't tell I've been through this situation a few times. So? What's the damage?"

Persephone clicked her tongue. "'The Damage' is a war between the Gods has begun, due to the interference of you and your father. And you have gotten your whole town wound up in it."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean, a war?" Emma's brow furrowed, and she stopped in her tracks. "A war-war? Or a 'war'?" She punctuated the latter with air quotes, which Persephone gave a peculiar look.

"Erm, more so 'war'," she mimicked the gesture, awkwardly raising her fingers, "than a literal war. But still, you and your family are now in grave danger, Sav - Emma. You must prepare to fight. I fear claims are already being made."

"Okay, claims – what do you mean by that?"

"Each god is to choose a champion, one of you," she pointed to Emma, "to fight for the glory of their patron. And whomever defeats all the other champions will be deemed the strongest. A title which Lord Zeus will not so easily relinquish."

Emma took a moment to consider this, and then came to a realization, looking back to Persephone wide-eyed. "Gold. Is that who Zeus is choosing for his champion? But he isn't in the town any more. He can't, can he?"

Persephone's expression darkened. "We gods do not live within the same confines as you mortals. Your barrier is nothing but a petty nuisance which we can bypass with ease. Lord Zeus will only pick the strongest champion, and so if that means returning the Dark One to Storybrooke, he will. You must defeat him, Emma."

"But how? Gold is way, way too powerful, I've tried to defeat him before you know. We thought keeping him out of the town, away from the magic, would be the solution…"

"I'm sorry, Emma, but I don't know how to help. Yet. In time I hope I can." Persephone crossed her arms defensively, looking at the taller woman with a deep determination burning in her eyes.

"Wait, so are you choosing me as a champion? What do we do?"

Persephone shook her head briskly. The two had reached a quiet stretch of the road, strange for the late afternoon downtown. The goddess had slowed her pace to a halt, still looking Emma in the eyes, though her expression had softened again, though Emma couldn't place what the girl's green eyes were trying to convey. "You have already been chosen. I am just here to assist you as I can." She gingerly touched Emma's forearm. "You have a friend in the spring. But I must go back to your mother, she must be warned of what's to come."

Emma watched as Persephone turned and hurried away, realising that the goddess' typically proud demeanor had shrunk, as though there was something she was afraid of ahead. Which was not a good sign, she realized. Swallowing her nerves, she turned slowly to face the road ahead again, and was relieved to see not a monster or other enemy, but instead another woman.

That was, until she met the woman's cold grey eyes and was hit with the sudden urge to cower.

The woman stood with what looked like a motorbike helmet tucked under her arm, though there was no vehicle parked nearby that could be seen, and wore a leather jacket not dissimilar to Emma's own, though in a shade of blue so deep it was nearly black. The woman's deep brown hair danced gently across her shoulders in a breeze Emma barely felt, and she would have been beautiful, if not for the stern look across her narrow features, and her piercing slate eyes.

"Let me guess," Emma said, more meekly than she intended, "you're another one of the Greeks?"

The woman smiled, though it lacked any hint of joy or humor. "Perceptive."

Emma couldn't tell if the woman's tone was sarcastic or not, but didn't dwell on it too long. The woman had already moved past it herself, stepping toward Emma and offering a hand that she was tentative to take.

"You may call me Lady Athena. You, Saviour, I wish to take as my champion."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin sat on the old couch in his son's apartment. Though it had been weeks since he had been banished from Storybrooke, he still felt as though he were intruding on someone else's life. Something he was never intended to be a part of.

He could feel himself getting weaker. The longer he was away from magic, the faster his long life caught up with him.

And then, there it was. Relief, like in a split second the room had filled with oxygen he hadn't realised he was without for so long, yet was so grateful to have again.

"That is potent magic you possess there, deary," he said dryly, turning to see a tall man he did not recognise stood in the center of the living room.

"Not magic," the man corrected in a gruff tone, like the rumble of thunder before a storm, "true immortality. But how would you like to return to your precious magic, hmm?"

Rumple smiled, teeth bearing in a sneer. "More than anything in this world."

"Then, perhaps we can strike up a deal."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much for reading _Hotel Olympia_. I truly appreciate it! Sorry about the info-dump chapter, fortunately from this point forward, anything new should be dished out only in small doses. **

**I'd also like to apologise if I flip flop between American and English spellings of certain words without noticing; unfortunately that's a bad habit of mine. Hashtag just-Canadian-things. Again, thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is always appreciated!**


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